Centuries of Madness
by Ghostlingx
Summary: The Nura clan has so far dealt with all occurring problems successfully with force and fear, but this time they are faced with something unusual. Rikuo is now forced to save his clan by playing a mind game. As a pawn. He is now unsure if the clan will last much longer as a playing piece on the game board. Will the Clan crumble to smothering ruins, or will they live on? Review!


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Nurarihyon no mago or any of the in story characters characters, but I own this story and all the OCs.

This story Has an enticing twist to it. Unlike other light happy stories that most people are used to, this is a story that I created meant to twist your mind in the most demonic way possible. Delicious perhaps. Or maybe I am going mad. I don't know. This story was inspired by my many feelings at one point in my life. Insane really. Horrific really.  
I hope that you have much fun reading this, and I hope you find this as interesting to read as I did to write.  
_Italics are thoughts.  
_This is just a little thing i made that will be switched to a legit story not FF_, _so yeah.. limited edition?_  
_

RikuoTsu FTW

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**_My dearest Reader_**** _:_**_ I write this to you now for I fear that I won't be able to in the future, and if you're reading this, it probably means that I'm already gone. Life was harsh and every day I was repudiated by others, even those that were once my closest friends. I trailed and slithered behind them, begging silently that they come back to my side, but such turn of events would not be possible, for what I am, for what I've done. Slowly, I became a faded shadow of a figure from the rest of society, to be pushed and used by others in whichever way they saw fit. Soon, I was forced mask my true feelings and wear a serene smile on my face at all times because of my twisted demonic expression that others have painted me into. If most children had such problems, they would most likely run to an adult for help, however, even they detest me. I am truly the lowest of the low, the only one that was ever lower than me was my beloved older sister, Samantha. She was the one I had anchored my life on. She had sacrificed her social life to protect me, and she was the only one I have ever trusted. _

_One fateful night, I found her dead. A beautiful, gleaming, rose-colored liquid covered the velvet carpet. A knife lay lodged in her once lovely face, with a blood-stained letter in her right hand. "I'm sorry." it stated, "I can't take it anymore. I will always love you. Live on for me." I cried not at the scene, I laughed, perhaps even hysterically; I no longer cared if my sister was dead, she had deserved it, for she had literally stated that she couldn't take life anymore because of me. Yes. Because of me. Either it was my already demented, demonic, and twisted state of mind, or the fact that I was correct. I licked my lips, grabbing the weapon that had claimed my sister's very soul, and hungrily tore her body apart. It seemed as if every single cut I inflicted on her corpse was like a sigh of relief, a short escape from pain. For days I lived on happily with a sweet expression on my face as if nothing had happened, until I was questioned about my sisters sudden disappearance. They accused me of murder, but still I dared not show them the letter, it mattered too much to me to lose it. It was my last artifact._

_As expected, I was sent to the Juvenile Detention Center. Even there I was rejected by others, but still. I didn't mind. For five long years they taught me how to live and showed me life skills to live on. Every day, I waited calmly for life to pick up again or for myself to die, and at times, wanting to be killed. At the end of each day, I would listen to the other children's wistful, unheard, pitiful cries and moans over how much they missed their families. I waited until they were all fast asleep. I would always then slip the precious letter out of it's hiding spot and read it over countless times before going to sleep. Slowly. Very slowly. I soon began to realized how much it pained me not to have Samantha by my side. I cried then, for once in my life. Grief. I now understood grief. That painful feeling that murders you from the inside by smothering your mind._

_Life in the JDC (what the other children called it) was bland, plain, and __even_ stupid. The reasons of why most of the children were here, were caused by their own stupidity, lack of discipline, and arrogance. They never understood me, and I was glad for that. And still, I find it funny how they thought I was generally unemotional, they couldn't even tell that I wore a sly smile to veil my bitter feelings. Because my awkwardness showed signs of weakness, they decided to pick on me. That was the worst decision in their lives and one that we all suffered from. I gave my attacker a single punch in self-defense, making my predator stagger back in pain. Oh how _good_ it felt, the beauty in giving one pain, to show them pain as I have felt it; I just couldn't stop there. I couldn't resist the temptation to indulge in that pleasure. It was simply too overwhelming. I tried to satisfy my lust for blood by ripping the child's arm off with my bare hands and inhumane strength, but it only resulted in a deeper hunger. By the time they had put a stop to me, I had already ripped off six arms, two legs, and a couple of other body parts. Instantly I felt regret over what I had done, but it was something that I could not stop myself from doing. I was branded a mass murderer and sent to the insane asylum at the age of fifteen.

_If hell ever does exist, the asylum was it. Life in the asylum was simple, but heartbreaking. They forced us to fight each other over food and water, something that even I knew was wrong. They made us kill to survive. Kill. Although I had never been close to death or even injured, it was the thought of killing that was hard. It was like they wanted to antagonize the demons within us even further, as if they wanted an asylum full of only the strongest human weapons. Still I managed to kill people to survive, but resisting the urge to massacre was difficult. I soon learned that it was a good idea to find friends when living in this asylum. I befriended a sixteen year old Polish boy named Jan. We quickly snapped into each other, becoming friends almost at once, for we had something in common. We were both put into this asylum because of the unjust events in our lives. We understood each other. We knew what true pain was, and we both loved and appreciated this beautiful world. Soon, we found other powerful friends with twisted stories. There are thirteen of us, and most of us are on the verge of insanity. None of us would be judged worthy of going to heaven, nor would we dare to go after what we've done. _

_At last, we broke out of the asylum, murdering everyone who got in our way. After hiding for two years in a cave with only each other for support, we slowly formed an organization, spreading and seeking our beliefs. We no longer cared about anything but absolute balance. We believed that nothing was pure, nothing was divine, or purely evil. And if anything was, we would either wipe its existence off the face of this world or contaminate and corrupt it. Never did this world know about our existence, nor did they know that we shaped this world a lot more than any would ever expect. Now we remain here, hidden from all humanity, playing around with this world. The world is now our game._

_Because of the turn of events in my life lately, I've seen things, both disgusting and beautiful. I'm at the very tip of madness. Every day, I feel it howl and crawl its way closer to me. Every day I feel its breath on the side of my face with bitter-sweet hatred, waiting for me to succumb to the temptation of giving in. Every day I feel it staining my heart blacker and blacker, tainting my very existence. Now, I am forced to wear a fake expression on at all times in fear that I won't be able to wear it again if I leave it off. Doing that is my last resort, my last thin wall of me that keeps me myself. It is my last chance to feel human._

_Eleven of us are taking our last breaths of sanity. I shudder to think of what would befall this world if we all happen to lose ourselves. I hope that at least one of our letters to this world is found by someone competent to believe, before our twisted selves find it and destroy our last gifts to the world. Kill us on sight. If you do not, I fear that we will destroy all that matters in this glorious world. Don't lose it._

_I am Victor von Rose, leader of The Thirteen._

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A casual walk, on a casual day , in an anything-other-than-casual life, Torri with her sly cat-like smile, walked down the concrete sidewalk, inspecting the cracks as she went. She sighed, glancing up and around the area to see Maki jogging to catch up to her. She waved back towards her, staring through the leaning shadows of the lamp posts that the dim sunset cast upon the gray concrete. They gave each other a silent, short, and friendly, embrace and padded off towards their friend Nura Rikuo's massive mansion. Torri pointed towards the sky, gazing at the brilliant starlit night. The clouds lazily drifted about, yawning and hungrily swallowing the few stars that got in their way. It was an odd sight, especially in the urban parts of japan.

Maki leaned closer to Torri, whispering something into her ear. Torri giggled beside the laughing blonde. They continued their walk, their shadows imitating their every movement. Suddenly, the lights flickered and died, leaving the area nearly pitch black. They stopped in their tracks, startled and dazed by the sudden change in the lighting. Torri's cat-like eyes flew wide open, staring at the faint silhouette of Maki in the dark, feeling Maki's hand for reassurance. She sighed in relief, the slight outline of her mouth in a giggle. They held hands, both smiling and slowly felt their way towards the household.

By the time they had arrived at the decorated entrance of the Nura household, the lights flickered back on one by one behind them. Lanterns were hung by the gate, bringing bright red into the dark equation, ruining the contrast. Slowly, the luscious colors re-entered the atmosphere, bringing the world back to life. Maki and Torri entered the massive home, greeting Kana who had also just arrived, with waves and warm smiles. They walked hastily towards Kana, both attacking her with hugs of reunion. Kana smiled happily, uttering pleasantries, and grinning. Together, they walked towards where the cheering, laughing, and happiness resided. They stepped closer and closer towards the room, bracing themselves for a room full of festive youkai.

Kana opened the door slowly and peeked into the room. Suddenly, the door flew open, pushing her to the ground, startling her and revealing a drunken Aotabo. He blinked twice, staring down blankly at Kana. He shuffled his feet for a moment, apologizing, pulling Kana back on her feet, and stalked off, murmuring something about "sake" and "drinking too much" The three of them stood there, too surprised to know how to act. A few seconds later, they were laughing at the silly act that the youkai had put on and entered the room to join the party.

~0~0~0~

It was too much for me. I jumped down from the perch of the tree I was on and squinted my eyes in pain at the vivid colors. I didn't understand how Victor thought that this group of hardly civilized monsters could save humanity; it was a stupid idea, a disgusting one even. I envied them, for they had such easy lives: no pain, no hate, no death, too perfect, too pure. Still, Victor insisted that they were our last hope. Brushing my hair to the side, I yawned lightly and walked off. Truthfully, I actually felt sorry for them. They were in a time of happiness, but in one that would not last for long.

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It was only seconds before the three of them were found by Rikuo within the huge crowd of youkai. "Oi," the tall figure greeted, glancing at them with his deep red pools and gesturing them to follow. He led them out of the raucous into a small room where a single table with a pot of tea and four cups ready for them and four plush cushions surrounding it. He plopped himself on one of them, and sighed. Most people would not expect a person to walk away from his own celebration to enjoy peace, quiet, and tea, but obviously Rikuo had different interests. The three young ladies sat down on their own side of their table, not knowing why Rikuo was so insistent about having them join him for tea. They sat there for a few long minutes in silence, doing nothing but stare at each other with quizzical expressions while Rikuo closed his eyes, quietly sipping his tea.

"Wait... why are we here again?" Maki asked, tapping her tea cup with a bored expression. "You never told us why." Rikuo blinked, looking back at her.

"We're waiting." he snapped abruptly in a annoyed tone, intensifying his gaze at her. "Waiting for the others to arrive."

"Oh okay..." Maki replied carefully, trying not to aggravate him even more. She turned her head, looked at Torri, and gave her a shrug. Even Kana seemed stunned by that sudden and out of character reply. For the next five or so minutes they sat there in silence, staring blankly into their teacups, until Tsurara arrived, lightly padding in and greeting them with a smile, and went to stand by Rikuo's side.

Rikuo sighed and took a sip of tea, furrowing his brows.

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REVIEW PLEASE :P

Sorry, but I'm stopping there... I'm turning it into a full on story... I suck at Fan-fictions cause my OOCness goes too far. Well, I'm not sure if I will make anymore Fan-fictions. Sorry about that. :P

Yes I will love you all and I will sorely miss you people... not that I'm going to never go back on Fanfic. I will still read, but my Fanfiction writing skills are horrid.

I might have the heart to update this for those who might actually like this, but until then, I will go and change this into a full fledged story. (To be posted somewhere else.)

_If I had too, I would put myself right beside you. So let me ask would you like that? Would you like that?  
And I don't mind If you say this love is the last time_, _so now I'll ask do you like that? Do you like that?_

_Try to_ _find out, what makes you take as I lie down_, _In sorer shit. Do you like that? Do you like that?_  
_There's a fine line between love and pain, and I don't mind_._ Just let me say that I like that. I like that._

_Desperate I will run, Waiting for so long, no love. There is no love.  
Die for anyone_._ What have I become?_

If anyone knows which song these lyrics are from then Kudos, cookies, and waffles to you, cause I wrote this story, while blasting it at full volume. :P

REVIEW PLEASE :P


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